Author: still a dreamer

Last Time You Danced?

/ still a dreamer

When was the last time you danced?
A question put to the sick by a Native American medicine man

This headed up the June 24th post by Mark Nepo in his The Book of Awakening. And I had to stop. When was the last time I danced? When was the last time I sang? Or really laughed hard? And the answer I came up with was that whenever it was, it was too, too long ago. And that got me pretty bummed. I love to dance.

There are periods in our lives when dancing is just so low on the agenda that we forget all about it. Although I vaguely remember dancing about the kitchen, holding one of my cats when she was really not doing well. I thought a loving waltz might help. I’m guessing it did, I’m sure as much for me as her.

Dancing is wonderful and I’ve been dancing for as long as I can remember. Lately? Not so much. With all that’s been going on I’ve barely listened to music or read a whole book. Yesterday, with a number of stressful situations at least partially resolved, I decided to change all that. I looked through my CD’s and put on a favorite that I haven’t listened to in a long time, p.s. A Toad Retrospective from Toad the Wet Sprocket. I  came across them in the early 90’s and  have several of their albums; I love their sound and this compilation is their best.

I hit “Play” and grabbed my book, Skinny Dip, something cool to drink, and sat down on the sofa and read. And read. And read `til I finished the book. (Yes, I did make dinner for all those who were hungry and then continued reading.)

OK, I didn’t dance.  But I listened to music I love and allowed myself something I rarely do … to simply relax and enjoy. I admit I am still feeling a wee bit guilty, but all the things I didn’t do are still right here waiting for me, and today is another day. Dance? That might happen at any time.

So you might ask yourself … when was the last time you danced? sang? laughed so hard you couldn’t stop? I’m certainly no medicine man, but if the answer is anything like mine was … maybe you, too, need to carve out a little “you” time. Put on the music and see what happens.

Back to Hiaasen

/ still a dreamer / 2 Comments

I’d forgotten what a great writer Carl Hiaasen is. In the last week, while I focused on everything imaginable to keep one of my animals alive and recovering steadily, my focus was hardly on reading, much as I tried.

I started The Magician’s Elephant by Kate DiCamillo, certain that her magic would be a welcome respite from the vigilance I needed to keep over Gypsy Rose, lest she fall and seriously hurt herself. Sad to say, I finished the book, but could not appreciate the magic in my frazzled state, so I added Kate back to the waiting-to-be-read books stack. When I pick this book up again, I know I will be in a better place to appreciate one of my favorite children’s book authors.

At the oft-mentioned annual library book sale, I picked up Carl Hiaasen’s Skinny Dip. I’ve read a couple of his other novels – Sick Puppy, (which I kept), Lucky You and Basket Case – but none recently. I was drawn to this book as being a perfect read right now. Not only was I right, but I now remember how much I enjoy his writing. Aside from an excellent use of the English language, Hiaasen has a tongue-in-cheek, lightly sarcastic sense of humor injected with an appreciation of the absurd that makes for not just enjoyable reading, but sometimes laugh-out-loud funny.

His stories take place in South Florida and center around murder, personal greed, and political corruption. Those that I’ve read are intricately laced with the issues that challenge the area’s environmental survival, yet these never jump out at you or intrude. In Skinny Dip, Joey Perrone is heaved overboard a luxury cruise liner by her husband Chaz. She knows too much about something illicit he is involved in, and as a secondary gain to her murder, Chaz plans to eventually figure out how to inherit her millions. But he dismisses her having been a collegiate champion swimmer, and with the waters being as shark infested as they are, he assumes she will be dead or presumed so. Her survival is known by only one other person, Mick, a retired detective who rescues her from the shallow waters just offshore. “Instead of rushing to the police and reporting her husband’s crime, Joey decides to stay dead and (with Mick’s help) screw with Chaz until he screws himself.” Throw in a droll Norwegian detective, Karl Rolvaag, and Hiaasen’s humor and Skinny Dip has all the makings of another great tale, and I’m only five chapters in.

Thanks, Carl, I believe I’m back to reading!

Home, Sweet Home

/ still a dreamer / 7 Comments

This may not look much like Home, Sweet Home, but to this tired kitty it most surely is.

In what amounted to two sleepless nights and endless stress for mama, it was what looked like a near brush with death for Gypsy Rose. In the morning, she started staggering, falling over and had no focus whatsoever. She was not in control of any of her movements. But by the time I left for the vet, Gypsy was sitting, looking at me as if nothing had happened.  Despite a thorough exam, there’s not much to diagnose if everything checks out normal. Perhaps a petit mal seizure, considering Gypsy had experienced similar neurological issues about 9 months ago.

Back home. About 5 hours later, imagine that episode times 5. Unable to stand, nystagmus (rapid back and forth eye movement), and head shaking, Gypsy no longer recognized me. Panicked, with my vet no longer available, I called a friend who suggested her own vet. My friend, bless her heart, came and got Gypsy and badly shaken me and took us there. Gypsy Rose was admitted with no sure diagnosis. A brain tumor or cancer could not be ruled out.

Unable to sleep, I ran the gamut of possibilities – from finding Gypsy passed over in the night at the vet’s to her showing improvement. I was/am totally unprepared to lose another cat after having lost two in the last 5 months. But I couldn’t know if it was her time to go or not. I prayed for Gypsy’s highest and best and that I would know what to do for her.

This morning, two days later, I was told Gypsy was wobbly, but walking, the nystagmus had stopped, and she had begun to eat and drink on her own. I brought her home with her medications. As to what is really going on with her only an $1800 MRI will definitively diagnose. The vets and I have opted for symptomatic treatment.

Gypsy can’t be left alone too long right now. She walks a bit like a drunken sailor, but made a beeline to the water bowl in the kitchen and drank a good long time. She wanted to go upstairs and be under the daybed. I brought my coffee and the book I’ve been wanting to read for days.

So now, with a soft westerly breeze coming in the window, sunshine and blue sky, I lie about 2′ away from her on the floor, reading. Gypsy Rose has closed her eyes and is purring in her sleep. It’s the music I’ve been needing to hear, and in this moment, all is blissfully well.

Losing a loved animal is to lose a part of one’s heart. She and I have been blessed with another chance.

Letter to Yourself

/ still a dreamer / 2 Comments

In a recent issue of O magazine, there was an article in which O asked 17 accomplished women and men what advice they’d give the 25 year-olds they used to be.  Some of them were really terrific. Whoopi Goldberg advised her younger self to stay out of her own way. Shirley Maclaine told herself that “regardless of how outrageous it may seem, ask for guidance from your higher self and follow it.” And to eat less sugar. Candy Crowley, CNN anchor and chief political correspondent, would have told her 25 year-old self to “be brave; that most times the answer to What’s the worst that can happen? is Nothing you can’t handle.”

I admit I liked Shirley Maclaine’s the best of all of them, but it did get me to thinking. What would I write to my 25 year-old self? Oh, there’s so much I would say to her. But then I thought some more. What would I write to my 5 or 6 year-old self? And that just brought tears to my eyes. I would just cuddle up that kid whose blonde curls were starting to straighten out and let her know how alright everything was always going to be, no matter what. I would want to tell her that she is fine and will always be fine.

After I post this, I am going to sit down and think some more about what I’d like to write to myself at 5 or 6. Something about that age appeals to me. Think about it – what would you write to you when you were 25? What would the little boy or girl of 5 or 6 years old have benefited from knowing back then? I suspect your answers, your advice to younger you, might be a good thing for you to know.

I’d leave the computer and get your pen on paper. Dear ….

Keeping Your Dream in Sight

/ still a dreamer

If you are pursuing a dream of any kind, then this post is for you. As mentioned in a previous post regarding the NJ SCBWI June Conference, it can be daunting for those of us who have full time work and/or family commitments to hang tight to the magic that occurs at events such as this or at any other inspiring event. I’m thinking of spiritual retreats, internships, especially away from home, intense volunteering experiences, educational conferences, etc. Want to keep your dream going? Here are some things that I put in motion so my dream is always an important part of my life:

* Upon return, review all notes, literature, etc to refresh your memory.

* Make lists – I’m big on lists – of what you will want to do. Make a list of things that need to be done now or in the next day or so, and one of what will need to be done in the near future and going forward.

* Make a plan for the second list – how will you accomplish it, what’s your time frame for completing what you want to do?

* Decide on how much time you can spend every day pursuing your dream. Then decide when you will do that. Early, before you need to tackle your daily work and obligations? Or late, when you can put all that aside? Decide and try to stick to it. In her talk with SCBWI Conference attendees, Kate DiCamillo said she writes 2 pages, single-spaced, every single day first thing in the morning. She does this before her critic gets up which is some time later in the morning when she attends to editing, a very different task.

* Give yourself a constant visual reminder of your goal – not an accusation, just a reminder. Mine is on my Mac where I work.

* Limit unnecessary time in e-mail and on the web, social media, etc. The web can be a huge drain on your time; do your best to do what’s important and then get off, even if it means shutting down those programs or your computer.

* Keep what you’re working on in plain sight, rather than neatly tucking it away. If you have animals or children with access to these places, figure something out. It’s important that you be able to “jump right back in” when you’re able rather than slow yourself down in set-up.

* Keep in touch with fellow travelers on your path and find time to connect with those who share and support your dream.

* Keep up with what’s going on in your “field of dreams” without spending unnecessary time on it. (‘Unnecessary’ always a key word here!) Be inspired – go to art galleries, read books, take yoga, a gardening class – whatever it is that will feed you.

* Journal daily. I have found this especially useful, and it’s recommended by Julia Cameron, author of The Artist’s Way, and many others as a way of freeing up your energy. First thing in the morning is best.

* Find some time to daydream, to envision your future as having already achieved the goals you set out to accomplish. Be there.

* Be kind to yourself. Keep track of procrastination and try to chuck that, but don’t be overly hard on yourself, either.

Hopefully, these will help you in pursuing your dream and not seem too obvious. When I stick with them, they all work for me.

“If one advances confidently in the direction of one’s dreams, and endeavors to live the life which one has imagined, one will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.”   – Henry David Thoreau